


History

by anemptymargin



Category: Director RPF
Genre: Community: comment_fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-29
Updated: 2011-05-29
Packaged: 2017-10-19 21:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemptymargin/pseuds/anemptymargin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Bruce have a history, probably best left there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	History

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t written these guys in ages, and never as a pairing. Always wanted to. Thankies due to [Missy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy) for a read over.
> 
> Prompt: comment_fic prompter truthwritaslies (last lines challenge) Any, Any, "I'll believe you don't love me when you stop looking at me like that."

“You weren’t at the premiere.” Sam looked up intently as Bruce opened the front door, the rumbling of his car across the property more than enough to be certain they were aware of his arrival well before he stood on the front porch with a familiar ease.

“Come on in, Sam… have a seat. Lemonade? Beer?” Bruce ushered him without answering the brusque statement.

Sam let himself be led into the familiar sitting room; it had been a couple years since he’d been out to Oregon but his old friend was a creature of habit and hadn’t really changed much at all. “Water, please.”

“Right.” Bruce nodded, fetching the drink himself.

The farmhouse was quiet, drawing out memories of an age long gone back when they were still kids with a camera and too much free time. “You know I had to pull a few favors to make that invite happen, you have some nerve not even bothering to tell me you weren’t going to make it.”

“I was busy.” Bruce replied from the kitchen, followed by the unnecessarily loud clatter of ice being thrown in a heavy glass. “Doing a thing.”

“Yeah, a thing called standing up your best friend at a very important event.” Sam sighed loudly, shifting in an overstuffed armchair.

“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Big Director Man. I didn’t realize you were extending your grace to us Little People.” Bruce’s head came round the corner first, followed by the rest of him with a pair of drinks. “I had better things to do than wrench myself into a monkey suit and get my picture taken with a bunch of people I don’t much care for.”

“You could have called.”

“Yeah.”

A long silence fell between them as Bruce sipped at his water, watching Sam with the same intent gaze they’d always seemed comfortable with. Not critical, no judgment – only pure intent that could mean any number of things from ‘I want to take your clothes off right now’ to ‘Why haven’t I kicked your ass’ depending on where they happened to fall in their cyclical pattern of adoration and annoyance. Finally, Sam broke the moment. “I miss you; it’s been over a year.”

Slowly, a smile broke across Bruce’s poker face, barely turning the corners of his lips but more than enough for Sam to know he’d made a dent. “I’ve been doing some writing, you know how that goes.”

Sam laughed slightly and nodded, setting aside his ice water – mostly untouched. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Not like you’ve been around either, last time I tried to call you you’d been locked down in front of a computer for three days.”

He nodded again, letting out a sigh. “I’m taking a little time off now, though. Thinking about going home for a bit.” The word ‘home’ had an unspoken meaning that had nothing to do with the big house he lived in. “Teddy and I were going to ask you at the premiere.”

“Yeah, well… I don’t know, Sam. I’ve got things going on here…”

“Come on, Bruce. A week away, surrounded by people you’ve loved your whole damn life.” He smiled, leaning forward in the chair until they were seated less than a couple feet apart. “It’ll be fun to go stomp around in the old woods.”

“It’ll be depressing.” Bruce shook his head.

“You know it won’t. Memories, Bruce. All the good memories.”

“Yeah, and all the bad ones.”

“Come on, forget the bad shit. That’s in the past.”

“Is it?”

The tone had shifted, but only slightly. They both knew about their history and the secrets shared between the soaring trees and a couple reels Sam would never show. Slowly, Sam nodded. “Yeah, it is.”

Bruce licked his lips and shrugged; “I’ll ask the warden for a pass.” He paused, taking a long drink off his cold water before adding; “Just remember, I don’t love you.”

Sam chuckled and raised an eyebrow, his smile lingering just a little too long as they returned to the steady eye contact showdown – Bruce’s eyebrows communicating far more than his mouth usually did. Knowing it would be expected, he reached forward between them and sized Bruce by the collar of his flannel shirt, pulling him in for a rough kiss reminiscent of those bygone days of ancient history. Breaking off with a sigh and smile, he stood up and murmured; "I'll believe you don't love me when you stop looking at me like that."

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.


End file.
